


Let them know

by annoying_antisocial



Series: You make me do strange things [1]
Category: Psych
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Part 1 of series, Shassie, friend to lovers, iguana years, shassie-freeform, some porn, this isn't well written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annoying_antisocial/pseuds/annoying_antisocial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn Spencer has known for exactly 53 iguana years, but he hasn't told anyone he cares about.<br/>Yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let them know

**Author's Note:**

> ^^Poorly written first fluffy for psych^^  
> ##Do not own it##  
> NOTES: Okay so this sucks so far BUT YOU GIVE ME COMMENTS I RETURN WITH BETTER WRITTEN STORIES AND EVERYONE WINS  
> SO COMMENT  
> PLEASE  
> *********ALSO READ MY OTHER STORY 'THE LIES I'VE TOLD' IT'S ALSO SHASSIE AND SOMEWHAT DEPRESSING BUT WILL GET HAPPY*****Way better written too^^

Shawn had known for five years and three days exactly today. Which meant, by all logic in the /universe/, it had been 53 iguana years. Which was far too long, really, but he was actually really, very, horribly, breathtakingly afraid of telling anyone. Part of him-a very small, Henry shaped, annoyingly loud, but tiny, part- kept saying a few, if not all, of the important people in his life already knew.

Which, by the way Tiny Henry voice, was totally not helpful /anyways/.

Even if they knew, even if the entire world knew, he still hadn’t said it /out loud/ to any of them. Shawn knew that he had to,even if he hated it a very-great-big-friggin’ lot, tell them because they should know. For sure. Right?

Well it wasn’t exactly the biggest thing, after all, and honestly it was rather obvious. Why should he be expected to have to tell anyone or have a serious conversation about it? After all why should they just assume-

A very Gus-like internal voice gave him an internal whack on the arm-which felt very real- and told him to ‘Get it together man!’. Shawn considered he was losing his mind and also scowled at the very correct voices in his head. Schizophrenic or not, he had to tell everyone, he knew they should know.

But Orlando Bloom dammit if he wasn’t petrified.

Shawn was not only shit-your-pants terrified, he was also cold, hungry, and tired. This little problem had started on day 1-year 51 in iguana land-and had kept him up since. The only food he could swallow in his kind-of panicked state was mangos or pineapples.

He wasn’t even afraid of what they might think of him, or what little things could change, he was just.../afraid/. He didn’t even know what about, but there was probably a long list going now. He ranged from the rational: Everything will change and nothing will ever be the same and it will be horrible, to the completely illogical: My father will burn me in a fire and dance around chanting as I die like a witch. In all honesty that wouldn’t be the worst way to die, at least it would be interesting, but back to the main problem.

The great, terrifying problem of… ** _Coming_ Out.**

Shawn found it an entirely unsatisfactory-even if it was a bit funny-title for the action. It should be title ‘Walking into a war zone with no weapons or armor and telling everyone a secret that will either gain you warrior or enemies.’ That was much more fitting then ‘Coming out of the closet’, which he wasn’t really in. Well, not a closet anyways. It was more like...a cupboard (buffet? Cabinet? sideboard? Hmm…) because he wasn’t completely gay-which isn’t bad, oh God dang no that is /perfectly/ fine- or straight-which was equally /fine/- he was a little bit of both.

He was like a recipe, a hint of masculinity, a dash of flamboyancy, two cups of straight, four cups of gay then cook for 9 months and you get a fantastic tasting Shawn Spencer! Though the four very obvious cups of homosexuality become more obvious later on, like spice in a Spanish dish. Shawn didn’t discover it until he was around 20, and only admitted it out loud at 24. Looking back now he can’t remember why he waited so long, since finally telling the other CNA’s he was working with (who were all amazingly kind, supportive women with wonderful taste in scrubs) he had never felt happier.

So why now, 53 iguana years later, was it so damn hard to tell everyone that mattered? If they loved him it wouldn’t change anything, he knew that, why should he be scared?

Because what if something he didn’t want to change did change? What if something he wanted to change didn’t change? Shawn groaned deeply, dramatically flopping down to the floor of the Psych office and glaring at the ceiling like it had stolen his lemon heads. He even went so far as to kick his feet, scrunching up his overly large nose (Hey! That’s was not nice!) at the offending floating-inside-out roof.

“It’s not that hard!” Shawn growled at it. “‘Hey everyone it’s me, the magnificent Shawn Spencer-Head Psychic at the SBPD- and I’m bisexual. We good?” Shawn said to himself, sighing deeply when the blank ceiling refused to reply to him. “Well you are /no/ help!” The fake psychic huffed at the stubbornly silent ceiling and crossed his arms, pouting. He heard the door swing open, already knowing it was Gus (I should tell him first.) as the man’s $200 shoes slapped across the floor.

“Hey Shawn your dad called me, which was weird, and said he was having some kind of get together for ‘our team’” Gus set down whatever fast food he’d bought on the way on the nearest desk as he continued. “He said our last case was a big bust, which by the way was at least 50% because of me, and wanted to celebrate.”

“Sounds sketchy.” Shawn said, rolling himself over to look up at his best friend and tilt his head. The man returned the comment with an eyebrow raise and a scof. “What? That’s what the kids say these days! I’m trying to keep us hip! Cool! C’mon man…”

“Whatever Shawn.” Gus turned towards the food, dramatically flipping the wonderful smelling cartons open. “We’re supposed to be there at 7 and-”

“Bring something that’s actually edible for desert Shawn.” The younger Spencer mimicked his father voice, waving his hands dismissively as he spun towards his desk. “In other far more important-”

“Far more you oriented?”

“We have a-What?” Shawn turned to his friend, who was eating noodle with the most ‘I’m done with your shit today Shawn’ face on. The pseudo-psychic dramatically slapped a hand over his heart, eyes wide and wounded. “I can’t believe you would think that, Gus! This isn’t...It isn’t about me! It’s about us, man, you and me. The Javier Esposito to my Kevin Ryan-”

“Shawn I’m not Spanish and you aren’t Irish.”

“Fine.” Shawn threw his hands up, thinking for a moment. “The J to my K?” That earned him a slightly more impressed look. “The..Isles to my Rizzoli!”

“Those are women!”

“Hot, smart, super detective women.” Gus pursed his lips, granting Shawn a nod, but he was already on a role. “Shmidt to my Jenko. Hoitz to my Gamble! Oh, oh Starsky to my Hutch!”

“Excuse me?”

“Fine the Hutch to my Starsky, which is backwards and wrong and man I feel like rinsing my mouth out with soap now!” Gus rolled his eyes, arms still crossed and Shawn threw his hands up more dramatically this time. “Alright I’ll bite, what is wrong?”

“What’s wrong, Shawn, is that I really liked Amanda.” Gus turned away, chin raised as he looked at a blank wall. Shawn noted absently he needed something to cover it, because blank walls simply won’t do. Making his mouth into a ‘w’ and looking around helplessly Shawn groaned.

“What is an ‘Amanda’ Gus?”

“The girl I was out with last night.” Shawn craned his neck, raising his eyebrows further and Gus glared. “The one I asked out three days ago!” Shawn just shook his head. “Shawn! The one I was talking about for two days straight and then you just called me in the middle of our date saying you had an emergency!”

“You were on a date?”

“Shawn!” The not-so-psychic in question raised his hands in defeat. “Yes, I was on a date with a girl I liked very much! Then you call me and I think you’re in trouble so I come here to find you asking me what color boom box to buy for the office!”

“I was tied between pink, purple, and blue!” Shawn whined, though he had been trying to give his friend a clue. He’d been dropping hints for days now, hoping someone would pick up on it. No luck so far. Gus just rolled his eyes, turning away again. “Look Gus, buddy ol’ pal, I didn’t...mean to pull you out of that date with Belinda-”

“Amanda, Shawn! How do you even confuse those two?”

“Amanda, then, anyways- I’m sorry, I had no idea you were on a date, honest.” Shawn took a tentative step forward, prodding his best friend shoulder like a pathetic child. “We good?”

“Yeah, fine we good.” Gus sighed, still glaring but handing Shawn a box of his own noodles. “Now about your dads tonight.”

Grooooooooooan.

* * *

 

Shawn was pacing, and Shawn did not enjoy pacing. He decided tonight was it, he was going to tell them, tell everyone. He even wrote it on his hand so he couldn’t back down. Now all he needed was the courage to do it, so he resorted to his tried and true method of inspiration:

Disney Radio.

When ‘Paint with all the Colors of the Wind’ started playing he felt his heart soar as he pranced around the office, singing, but it didn’t help him when his mind pile drove through all his worries. Next came ‘Under the Sea’ which, while using his perfected routine made him feel extraordinarily like a merman, did not help in anyone.

Then came the wonderful, inspirational, girl power song that Shawn had never heard before. Let it Go.

Shawn stared at his laptop, impressed by the song and now with a deep need to watch the movie Frozen. The lyrics were...well they weren’t perfectly catered to his situation obviously, but they did the trick.

‘ I don't care

What they're going to say

Let the storm rage on,

The cold never bothered me anyway!’

Drop the cold part and add an impressively empowering female vocalist and you get Shawn Spencer’s inspiration. He listened to the song with a smile, relaxing ever so slightly as it went on. By the end he was flouncing around the office, flailing out his arms and ‘ballerina’ spinning until he broke at least three things.

“What the hell are you doing Spencer?” Came Carlton Lassiter’s sharp voice, causing Shawn to falter and somehow end up slamming bodily into the detective, sending them both into a tangled heap on the floor. Another four things broken and Shawn’s face shoved into the crook between Lassie’s neck and shoulder. (Damn he smells like gunpowder and vanilla…) Lassie squeaked, in a very manly and respectable way, and flailed around to no avail as it just caused his tie to get stuck on Shawn’s belt, which put them in an extraordinarily awkward position. Shawn looked down at the detective, who was no bent towards his...waist…and glaring up at him with big, furious, beautiful (Wait...what? Oh hell no.) blue eyes.

“Spencer if you don’t fix this in five seconds I’m going to shoot you.” Lassie growled (and wait was that hot? Why am I blushing?) and pulled ineffectively at his tie. Shawn tried to help, but it appeared his belt buckle had formed a very strong attachment to the tie.

“Sorry Lassie.” Shawn shrugged, “Seems your tie and my belt buckle are really fond of each other. They say the wedding’s in May.”

“Dammit Spencer!” Lassiter took a deep breath, instead now trying to undo the knot. After a few seconds of struggle the detective gave a sigh, pressing his hands on to the floor on either sides of Shawn’s hips as the younger man stared down at him.  

“Well?”

“TheknotstotightIcan’tgetitundone.” Lassie mumbled, looking away.

“What was that?”

“I said!” Lassiter snapped, “The knot’s to tight I can’t get it undone.”

“Seriously?”

“No, I was making a joke. Ha ha.” Lassiter glared fiercely at Shawn, who was trying to name off every actor from ‘Charmed’ in a shortest to tallest pattern in his mind. “Do you have a knife, by any chance?”

“Why would I have a knife?” Shawn squawked, already on Shannen Doherty. Lassiter scoffed something that sounds like ‘figures’ or possibly ‘Finola Hughes’, but that was unlikely. The detective tugged helplessly at his tie again and growled. (Dammit why is he so attractive?)

“How could this even happen? It doesn’t seem logically possible.” Lassiter complained-well whined, but that doesn’t actually happen- as he leaned a little too close to Shawn ‘special place’ as his arms got somewhat tired.

“Why did you come,” Bad word choice. “here anyways?” Shawn asked, trying to sink his body into the floor and farther away from a very tempting mouth.

“Your father called me and requested I pick you up.” Lassie looked up at Shawn through his lashes, and damn if the younger man’s mind supply a rather filthy thought. “He said that you might convince Guster to drive somewhere else or bring pineapple brownies again.”

“Those were fantastic!”

“I’m sure.” Lassiter said dryly, then narrowed his eyes at Shawn again. “This is your fault.” Carlton lifted a hand, waving it at the joined tie and belt buckle before slapping back on the ground again. Shawn bit his lip, noticing that Lassie was favoring his right shoulder.

“Get hurt on the job?” Shawn asked, tilting his head. Lassiter didn’t even bother with surprise, instead just glaring and giving a sharp nod.

“Now shut up and let’s try and make this work.”

“What work?”

“Guster’s desk has a letter opener on it.” Lassiter said, tossing his head towards the mentioned item. “If we make this work we can get over there, cut my tie, and get the hell out of here.”

“Tell me Lassie, do you know how to walk on your knees?” Shawn summoned his most lofty, pompous British accented voice as he asked. Gus told him his recent addiction to ‘Merlin’ would come back to bite him in the ass, looks like he gets the points today.

“What the hell are you talking about Spencer?” Lassie growled, glare intensifying. Shawn shrugged with a grin.

“Well how are we going to make this work.”

“I’m going to crawl sideways and you’re going to slide.” Lassiter said, voice low and commanding. Shawn wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the entire situation was, but instead just nodded, face already hot as he went back to trying to organize the actors by height. Lassiter stared at Shawn for a long moment, causing him to swallow hard and consider every reason in all of creation to explain away anything the head detective saw. Lassie looked away, shaking his head before pushing his arms up straight again.

“Wait Lassie, have we tried undoing my belt?” The red on Lassiter’s face must've been because he’d been in the awkward position for so long.  

“Wh-what?”

“My belt, to get the tie out!” Shawn said, reaching forward to try and wiggle the latch undone with one hand. After a few frustrating minutes Lassiter slapped his hand away, moving to get any ground he could on his knees and starting to work the belt himself. He had the belt mostly undone and his tie nearly free when the door banged open.

Shawn froze but the head detective was too concentrated on his project to even notice, and before Shawn could warn him Gus was swaggering into the room.

“So Shawn I picked up angel food cake and strawberries on the way-holy mother of pearl!” Gus shouted, seeing the admittedly compromising position on the floor. Lassiters head snapped up, hands frozen on Shawn’s belt. Shawn, just to make everything more awkward, gave Gus a shit-eating grin and canted his hips up towards Lassie’s face with an exaggerated moan.

“Ohhh Lassie, yesss!” The fake psychic was honestly not in control of his ridiculousness in that moment, because internally he was /freaking the fuck out/. Gus yelped, turning away and crossing his arms with a growl.

“Dammit Shawn I said no sex in the office!”

“C’mon man, we both knew it would happen-”

“Shut /up/ Spencer!” Lassiter commanded, finally pulling tie free. With a quick, surprisingly graceful movement he was on his feet. “Guster, that was not what it looked like. My tie was stuck in Shawn’s belt buckle.”

“Oh yes, because that seems very realistic.” Gus snorted, still fuming.

“When Lassie here came in I was dancing-beautifully I might add- to Disney Radio” Which in turn was still awkwardly playing ‘Can you feel the love tonight’ “And with his panther like stealth he ended up scaring me half to death! There was a big fall, add in some flailing a bit of contortion and you get the big finale! Fake blow job! Which I, myself, am very disappointed didn’t turn into the real thing. ”

“Shawn!” Gus shouted just as Lassiter hissed. “Spencer!” Shawn shrugged, still grinning as he fixed his belt. The other two patrons both were restraining themselves from punching the bastard in the face when Shawn’s phone went off.

“Henry.” Shawn said with false cheer into the phone. “I-Yes I know...I’m aware that...Yes I’m riding with Lassie...No we aren’t going to be late..Dad I-would you-there was an incident...What? Oh a fake blow job from Lassiekins….Stop yelling, why is everyone yelling at me today?...No it’s not because I’m ridiculous...yes...yes...yes..no...Henry..Henry! Goodbye.” Shawn snapped his phone shut with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s go.” Lassiter growled, grabbing Shawn’s wrist (Weird, he almost never touches me willingly) and violently pulled the other man behind him. Gus sighed with the exasperation of a soccer mom and stalked out to the blueberry.

Lassiter pushed Shawn into the passenger side seat of his car, slamming the door before quickly making his way to the driver side. He gave a polite wave to Gus as he pulled out and then sat heavily in his seat, slamming the door shut and clicking his seat belt in place. Shawn did the same, then waited as Lassie turned the car on and began pulling out before leaning forward to change the radio station. Lassiter slapped his hand for the second time that day, glaring from behind his sunglasses.  

“My car, my music.”

“If Rascal Flatts starts playing and I cry it’s your fault.”

“Who?” Lassiter asked, glancing at Shawn before looking back at the road. “You cry because of a song?”

“Have you ever /heard/ ‘Skin’?” Shawn asked, staring at Lassiter who shook his head. “My God, I don’t know whether to feel bad for you or happy for you right now.” Lassiter snorted, glancing again at his passenger. “Sarabeth!”

“Oh Sweet Justice don’t sing.”

“Is scared to death-” Shawn was about to continue before a long, thin hand was slapped over his mouth. He turned a little to look at a frustrated Lassiter, who didn’t look like he planned on moving his hand anytime soon. So Shawn did what any rational person would:

He moved his head a little when Lassiter was distracted by making a left turn and sucked the detectives pointer finger into his mouth. Lassiter’s eyes grew into saucers and his breath hitched up. (Not...the reaction I was expecting.)

“Sp-Spencer!” Lassiter mumbled, not moving his hand. “Wh-what the hell are you doing?” Shawn was intrigued, to say the least, and decided the best course of action was to not reply but simply demonstrate. He nipped gently at the bad of the finger, then licked the spot before swirling his tongue around the digit. The flush running up Lassie’s neck to his hairline was actually somewhat adorable. “Sp-spencer.” Lassiter made to pull his hand away, but Shawn moved faster and grabbed his wrist. The car nearly swirved. Shawn smiled, Lassie felt it, and then the fake-psychic sucked the finger into his mouth before slowly pulling his head back making sure to move his tongue over it gently, teasing. Lassiter’s breathing was shallow, and Shawn was loving this research. Then the younger man let the finger go, causing cold air to hit it and make the detective shiver slightly.

“What..” Lassiter half shouted-half moaned, “Was that?”

“Just...an experiment.” Lassiter snorted again, then glanced over at Shawn and smirked frighteningly. He lowered his hand slowly down to Shawn’s jeans where he was already a little hard and began wiping his finger down the denim, tracing the faint outline there. It was Shawn’s turn to gasp, every muscle in his body tensing. Lassie’s smirk grew. “What are /you/ doing?”

“I...have a theory.” Lassiter said, voice an octave lower. He pressed his palm against the growing bulge there. Shawn bit down on his moan, turning to look at Lassiter, who was still staring at the road.

“What...AaAh...What’s that?” Shawn said, tilting his head and giving a grin. Lassiter squeezed.

“You have been acting strange for a few days” Shawn’s hips moved forward on their own, he swears it on Clueless. “No moving Spencer. Anyways, I noticed that when you think no one’s paying attention, or thinks you're kidding, you flirt with not only attractive women but,” Firm press, near groan. “Attractive men. At first I thought it was a joke too, but then I saw you slip your number to one.” Lassiter took a turn, one that wasn’t on the route to Shawn’s fathers. “That didn’t work out I take it?”

“N-no.” Shawn growled, taking in a slow breath through his nose. Lassiter nodded, but Shawn didn’t miss his smile. ‘Well’ Shawn mused in a hazy mind, ‘I can play to’. Shawn let his head fall back with a small moan barely breaking his lips and Lassie’s han froze for a millisecond. ‘He likes me making noise? Well right on.’ “Ahhh...Uh Oh God…” Shawn whispered as Lassie pressed just a little harder. He was pleased to note the detectives breath hitching as he turned down a dead end road.

“Wh-where we going-Ahhhh….” Shawn let his moan become just a little exaggerated, enjoying the flush all over his detective. Carlton pull the car over to the side of the road, the sun already setting and making the sweat on both men glow just a little. Carlton flicked the car off, then turned to Shawn.

“The backseat.” Lassie replied making Shawn moan without any help from the tantalizing hand on him. “Now, Spencer.” Lassiter whispered into his ear and Shawn wasn’t entirely sure how any of this happened. Lassie undid his belt and before Shawn’s brain could catch up he was pressed against a police car, ruting on the head detective and moaning like a virgin. It took him a moment to realise they hadn’t even kissed and a spark of white hot hurt flashed through the arousal. Lassiter must’ve seen because he pulled Shawn’s hips forward and leaned in closer.

“Shut your eyes Shawn.” He whispered and Shawn was too dazed to retort, instead doing as he was told. Lassiter leaned forward, just a breath between their lips, he could feel them barely touching. It was torture, but he knew not to press forward. Lassiter was in control, that much was obvious. “Say my name.” Lassiter said, low and steady, even with his obvious arousal pressed against Shawn’s thigh he was still steady. Shawn was about to be a smart ass, about to say ‘Carly Town’ but then Lassiter spoke up again. “Say it.” The tiniest note of plea hidden within, and nothing in Shawn was powerful enough to deny it.

 _ **"Carlton."**_  Shawn whimpered, and then his mouth was seized. Lassit-No Carlton was on his lips, inside every inch of his mouth, nipping at his lips and groaning against him. Shawn couldn’t play submissive forever and pulled away, pecking his way down the other man’s jaw and to his neck. Carlton shuddered with the first press to his neck. (Pleasure spot. Safe that one for later.) Shawn moved further down and Carlton threw his head back and Shawn found his pressure point. Then he moved to the pronounced collar bone, just above strangely attractive chest hair. Shawn sucked, licking with his tongue and summoning the blood to the surface.

“V-vampire.” Carlton accused with a groan and Shawn grinned against his skin. Carlton roughly pulled Shawn back to his lips, the kiss desperate and clumsy. Then he gripped the younger mans waist tightly and pulled him forward enough to get the door open. Before Shawn or Carlton had time to register what was happening Shawn was on his back on a slightly uncomfortable seat, the door was closed and the car was far too small for this, but neither of them cared.  

Carlton’s head kept hitting the ceiling and Shawn kicked the door a lot, but it was perfect in it’s own way. Carlton pressed his groin down on Shawn’s grinding slowly and Shawn cracked his fingers against the front seat. Both men’s laughter dissolved into moans and begging as they undid each others belts. Carlton got Shawn’s before Shawn got his and the detective smirked triumphantly.

“Not f-fair!” Shawn pouted as Carlton started to pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, far too slowly for the younger mans liking. “You got practice earlier-Oh!” Shawn’s head fell and his back arched up against Carlton when his length was finally released. Carlton laughed, to impatient to wait for his lover and deciding to finish his own belt. “You have a talent for that. M-maybe you should capitalize on it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Carlton whispered against Shawn’s ear as he lowered himself back down, grinding them together once again. Shawn gasped and his hand went to Carlton’s biceps automatically. He squeezed tightly, pressing desperately up as his volume increased. Part of the detective’s mind registered there would be bruises while another noted, happily, that Shawn was a /very/ vocal lover. The rest was occupied with finding the perfect rhythm to make Shawn make that little desperate whimpering noise again.

“C-Carlton…” Shawn cried, crumbling beneath the older man, almost there. Carlton was close as well, taking deep, sharp breaths as they moved together in some erratic rhythm that had them both whimpering. “O-Oh God…” Shawn’s eyes were wide and Carlton understood immediately, almost there himself.

Shawn lost it first, but Carlton was only second behind, dropping his head onto Shawn’s shoulder and gasping as the last waves overtook him. Then he collapsed entirely in a boneless heap. After a while both men returned to the world of boring reality with hesitation, but Shawn smiled at Carlton nonetheless.

“That. Was. Awesome!” The man-child grinned. (Well that’s one less person I have to tell.) Carlton managed to look disgruntled and happy at the same time as he pushed up to look at them. Making a face he pawed at the floor until finding a duffle bag and pulled out a rag and a thermos of warm water. “Why do you have that?” Shawn asked, tilting his head adorably. Carlton glanced at him, face red as he began to clean them up.

“Ilikehotcocoatnight.”

“What is with you and mumbling today?”

“I said,” Carlton sighed, tossing the dirty rag to the floor. “I like hot coco at night...when I’m on my way home.”

“Carlton…” Both men were surprised at the use of the detectives first name in normal conversation. “That’s so adorable!”

“You sound like a teenage girl.”

“And you liked it.” Shawn retorted, making Carlton turn red. Shawn pushed himself up, looking around he was pleased to find they managed to fog up every window. “We are freaking hot, babe.” Shawn said with a grin and Carlton rolled his eyes.

“Never call me that again, or I’ll shoot you.” Carlton said, but a smile was finding it’s way to his lips.

“With which gun.” Shawn whispered, leaning forward and pressing his lips against the detectives. The kiss was slow, nearly chast except for the filthy moan Shawn let out. Carlton pulled away and glared, receiving a proud grin in return.

“We are going to be late.” Carlton sighed, looking at his watch. Shawn laughed, pulling his pants on awkwardly.

“Then we might as well go home and get re-dressed.”

* * *

 

Shawn and Carlton knocked on Henry’s door at exactly 7:24.

“Where the hell have you two been?” Henry shouted as he threw the door open. Gus was behind him, arms crossed and frowning. Shawn had made sure to get rid of all evidence of what happened in the backseat, but he still felt like his father saw it as he narrowed his eyes at them.

“We already started eating.” Gus glared, then his eyes got a little wider in confusion. “Are you two wearing different clothes?”

“No Gus, don’t be ridiculous.” Shawn laughed, shaking his head and squinting at his friend. He glanced around catching an extra two jackets and pair of shoes there. “Chief Vick and Jules are here already?”  

“Yes we are.” Came the chief’s voice, and Shawn saw Carlton stand up just a bit straighter. He looked around Gus to see Jules with an awkward smile, giving a small wave and the chief with her arms crossed, looking pissed.

“Chief! O’Hara!” Carlton said, voice a little to high and Shawn repressed a smile. His (Wait, what?) /the/ detective was adorable sometimes. “I wasn’t aware you were coming.” Chief glared at Henry, who shrugged innocently. Then a realization hit him:

He could tell them all tonight. He hadn’t thought of it earlier when Gus mentioned the team get together. Oh God..

Part of him was panicking inside, breathing coming just a little faster. Carlton’s attention was taken from his superior and partner when he noticed the change in his {Boy friend? Lover? One night stand? What the hell are we?} Shawn and turned to him. Everyone was staring at them now, and that made Shawn’s panic expand. {He was...planning on telling his father and Gus tonight. Now everyone’s here...Oh} Carlton crossed his arms and gave Shawn a mock glare. Shawn caught the sparkle in his eye, though and they both knew what game to play until Shawn was ready.

“You made us late Spencer.” Carlton stated, glaring growing harsher. Shawn almost grinned at the act, but repressed it for a mock hurt face. “Why don’t you explain what happened?” Shawn gave him a glare of his own, this one saying ‘Oh I get it, give me that hard one.’ Carlton almost laughed.

“Weeeelllll see it went like this.” Shawn spread his arms out wide, “I wanted a smoothie, so Lassie here, being the loyal doggy he is, brought me to a smoothie place he knows. turns out they had every. Kind. Of. Smoother. Ever! So naturally I ordered ten.”

“Naturally.” Vick scoffed.

“Anyways, there was the the guy in a big truck that came right out in front of us when it was our turn to go so Carlton swerved and all my smoothies were on the dash and in the middle console and well...You get the picture.” Gus shuddered, Jules nodded solemnly, Henry sighed and Vick looked near laughter. Shawn glanced back at Carlton to catch the flash of impressed amusement on his face.

“This idiot,” Carlton motioned to Shawn. “Ruined one of my favorite suits.”

“Carly I already said I was sorry!” Shawn whined, Carlton snorted and everyone else began walking away, ready to leave them to their bickering.

“Your buying me a new one.”

“I am not!” Shawn said back, loudly so everyone would ignore them. “Make the truck driver dude pay you back! I know you got his plates.”

“I’d rather make you do it.”

“I’m flattered really, Lassie, but we need to go on a first date.” Shawn raised his eyebrows emphatically and Carlton lost his footing for a moment. Shawn meant that one. The detective cleared his throat quickly, giving a short nod and a small smile. Shawn beamed back.

“In your dreams.”

“Every night.”

“Would you two shut up and get in here!” Henry yelled, causing both men to obey immediately.  Jules smiled at them when they entered, taking the two seats left, luckily next to each other. When neither man complained about the arrangement everyone around the table paused, staring as they sat, then blinked at the group. After a moment of awkward staring Henry cleared his throat, pulling everyone back to the dinner.

Conversation continued with few interruptions, and everyone had stopped questioning the two men after the first five minutes. It was all going smoothly until Shawn forgot the act.

“Pass me the salt Carlton?” Carlton didn’t even register the slip up, passing the salt without hesitation and letting their fingers brush. All three cops picked up on that one immediately, and suddenly the air was silent.  Shawn looked up from his plate, eyes wide and horrified as he looked around the table, finally finding Carlton’s icy blue eyes, which were equally as surprised.

“Shit.” Lassiter grumbled, looking at shawn again. His breathing was short again, and Lassiter couldn’t repress the urge he had the first time it happened and reached over, taking the other man’s hand and squeezing it. Shawn gave him an unsure smile, but Lassiter just smiled in return. He could be a loving kind-of boyfriend, no matter what Jules thought.

“I assume you have something to tell us, Shawn.” Henry said, folding his hands with his eyes narrowed. Shawn swallowed, nodding and tightening his hold on Carlton’s hand.

“Well first of all the reason I agreed to come tonight.” Shawn started, surprised at how comfortable Carlton’s hands held his. They weren’t even properly together yet, but it felt...right. Shawn felt himself smile, despite his uneasiness. “Princess-Or Queen I guess- Elsa helped me gain the courage to say that...I’m bisexual, I figured it out 53 iguana years ago.”

“Wait how long is that in human time?” Jules asked, blinking at the table.

“5 years and 3 days.” Gus supplied matter-of-factly.

“Yes, and well this.” Shawn lifted his and Carlton’s joined hands up and shook them gently. “Happened about an hour ago…So not really official persay but I...uh...Well I think...erm-”

“We’re gonna try and make it work.” Carlton finished, glancing at his….Shawn and giving a little smile.

“This is very possibly the most I’ve ever seen you smile ever Carlton.”

“You do strange things to me, Shawn.” Gus made a gagging noise while Juliet giggled and clapped her hands. The two older officers simply sat for a moment, each with a little smile of their own.

“Well now that we’ve got all that out of the way-”

“Wait,” Jules held up a hand, eyebrows drawn. “An hour ago...wasn't that when the smoothie thing happened? You started dating because of spilt smoothies?” Carlton glanced at Shawn, who gave an impish grin.

“Sex in the backseat, Jules.” Juliet and Carlton both turned bright red at the same time as everyone at the table shouted:

**“Shawn!”**

**Author's Note:**

> T H A N K Y O U  
> COMMMMMMMMEEEENNNNNT :)


End file.
